


Your silence is that of a star

by greenforsnow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushes, First Kiss, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Internal Monologue, M/M, MWPP Era, Oblivious Sirius Black, POV Sirius Black, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenforsnow/pseuds/greenforsnow
Summary: Remus had a secret. Sirius didn’t know what the secret was yet, but he was sure. As good as Remus was at keeping secrets, he was terrible about hiding the fact that he had one to keep in the first place.Written for Wolfstar Games 2020
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162
Collections: Wolfstar Games 2020





	Your silence is that of a star

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wolfstar Games 2020
> 
> Team: Sight
> 
> Prompt: "To communicate through silence is a link between the thoughts of man" - Marcel Marceau

Remus had a secret. Sirius didn’t know what the secret was yet, but he was sure. As good as Remus was at keeping secrets, he was terrible about hiding the fact that he had one to keep in the first place. 

It always made Sirius laugh when people outside of the Marauders referred to Remus as “the quiet one”. In part, because if you got Remus on the right subject he would happily talk at you for hours. From magical creature reform to Professor Slughorn’s pedagogy to muggle gothic literature. It barely took any prompting to get him to go off on a rant. But also because even when Remus was silent, he was talking all the time. It took Sirius a bit to figure it all out. Now it was clear: every tilt of his head or quirk of his mouth, the way he held his spine or where he put his hands- all of it spoke volumes. At least to someone who paid attention. 

Which is why Sirius could tell he was hiding something now. Had been hiding something all year. Currently, Remus was at the workbench in front of Sirius in the Potions classroom and was doodling on one corner of his parchment. During Potions. Usually, he spent the entire lesson frantically taking notes or whispering questions across the aisle at Evans. The inattention was telling. He wasn’t even looking at Slughorn or what was written on the board. There were two lines on his parchment and the rest of the parchment was filled with neat spiraling squares. He reached back and idly wrapped a honey-brown curl from the base of his neck around his finger. A nervous gesture, Sirius knew. So what was he so damn nervous about that he couldn’t share with his best friends? Sirius watched the hair curl around the pale finger in front of him and sighed. He hoped James had been taking notes for Remus’ sake, because Sirius had been too busy trying to puzzle out what was going on with Remus and Peter’s notes were always shit. 

Remus dawdled after Potions and waved the rest of them ahead. He walked back to the common room with Evans and it made Sirius momentarily wonder if Remus was mad. But he knew what mad looked like on Remus. It was clear and cold looks, purposely frozen and devoid of any emotion. It was squared shoulders and a tight jaw. It was a face that looked like it was ready to take a punch. It was facial expressions that looked about twenty years too old for him and meticulously placed distance. This wasn’t that. 

First year, the first thing that Sirius realized about the skittish kid in the next bed over was that he had a secret. It wasn’t just the inconsistent lies. It was how good he was at diverting any questions he didn’t want to answer. It was the way he seemed to fold in on himself like he was trying to make sure no one noticed him. It was the tight smile and wide panicked eyes when people asked him about himself. 

Sirius had spent most of first year trying to figure out Remus’ secret- watching him, noting each facial expression or shrug of the shoulders, deciphering the meaning behind each wordless action until he found the truth. He always loved a puzzle and Remus presented a fascinating one. Even James had gotten bored eventually. But not Sirius. And that was why he was the one who figured it out. Months of noting irregularities and symptoms, of coaxing out bits of information, of keeping track of lunar charts and he figured it out. But that was years ago. All Remus’ friends knew he was a werewolf. So what was he hiding now?

Currently, he was curled in an armchair, tucked around a book he wasn’t reading. Sirius could tell he wasn’t reading it because he hadn’t turned a page in the last ten minutes. The book was there to stop the others from talking to him. Not that it ever really stopped Sirius. 

Sirius realized though, the difference between first year and now was that Sirius could ask him now. He may not tell him right away, but Sirius had more information than he had before. He knew how to show Remus he was being serious and sincere. He knew how to smile in a way that made Remus roll his eyes and shake his head and then inevitably see the logic in whatever Sirius was saying. He had years of knowledge, carefully collected and stored away, to draw upon.

He walked behind the armchair and leaned over the firm back until he could read the words on the page in front of Remus. The print was small enough that his chin was practically pressed into Remus’ neck before he could make out any of what it said. Just some gibberish about some old muggle author. No wonder Remus wasn’t focused on it.

Remus startled. Sirius was going to make a joke and then ask Remus what it was that had him so tense and closed off. But the look that flashed on Remus’ face was unreadable and there was a faint pink blush creeping up his neck and along his cheekbones. Sirius was distracted by a vague curiosity about how far down Remus’ neck it went after it disappeared into the collar of his shirt.

“I’m trying to read,” Remus said his face now firmly in an expression of exaggerated exasperation. He pushed Sirius’ head back and rolled his eyes. 

Yes, that was the normal reaction. The one Sirius was expecting, but… that blush. Remus blushed when he was embarrassed. WhenMcGonagall scolded him, or when he fell off his broom, or when James called Sirius his nursemaid after full moons. 

Sirius flopped back on his own armchair, now even more confused than he’d been before. He finished his homework more to distract himself than anything else and went to bed with the memory of the pink skin along Remus’ cheekbone unshakable from his thoughts.

~~~

The next day at breakfast, that blush was still on his mind as he sat down at the bench next to Remus. A little closer than normal, maybe. So their knees bumped together and Sirius had to lean across him to grab his favorite jam. And there it was again, delicate and barely noticeable since Remus ducked his head to read the newspaper right after. Sirius stared openly, although he wasn’t sure what other information he could get from the color of his friend’s cheeks. 

James dragged him back to the present by throwing a bun at him and Sirius spent the rest of the meal debating if it would be funnier to turn all the candles in the Great Hall into flame-belching iguanas or fire-farting ferrets. James won the debate because alliteration was always funnier. And not because half of Sirius’ brain was plotting ways to get to see that blush again.

So Sirius started keeping a new list- one of all the things that made Remus blush. It seemed that Sirius’ close proximity only worked when it was unexpected. Sirius kept trying- kept inventing new reasons to surprise Remus with his touch. He brushed a finger across the underside of Remus’ wrist when he passed him a book in the library. He jumped on his bed to wake him up on a cold Saturday morning. First as the dog, but then transforming back so his body was pressed against Remus’ for a moment before jumping up. He leaned in close to whisper to him during History of Magic and stayed there for a minute, breathing in the comforting scent of Remus’ shampoo. That incident was particularly delightful because Sirius was close enough to really watch the flush spread up from Remus’ neck, expanding across his freckled cheeks like a sunrise. 

Sirius sat down at his favorite table in the library the evening after that blush, determined to sort this out. He wrote down everything he knew. Every incident of blushing. All Remus’ new strange behaviors: looking away from Sirius when he grinned at him, the odd fleeting looks on his face that Sirius only caught for a moment, the affected aloofness. 

Sirius stared at the parchment in front of him until his own neat handwriting blurred. Until a thought came floating from the page to his mind. Did Remus have a crush on him? It wasn’t something Sirius was unfamiliar with. There were girls who giggled around him and smiled hopefully and Peter made crude jokes and Sirius didn’t pay it much mind because they were _girls_ , quite frankly. And he had better things to focus on. But Remus. Remus was his friend and he had a brilliant devious smile that he only showed his friends. The fact that Remus may be interested in him in a way that made him blush when Sirius’ cold nose pressed against his neck… that was an idea that Sirius didn’t mind. 

Sirius had crushes in the past. They were bright delicate things that he kept silent and tucked inside himself. A crush was him trying- really trying, not just putting in the minimum effort he needed to get Os and then stopping- in Kettleburn’s class because his compliments lit a special kind of pride in Sirius’ chest. It was soundproofing the curtains around his bed and imagining Gideon Prewitt’s lips. It was the frenzied fascination he couldn’t shake with musicians and quidditch players. 

What he felt for Remus was… shit. Sirius dropped his quill. It was all that. The craving for approval, the desire for more, the sharp fascination and curiosity. It was all there. It was just so twisted up and entangled with friendship that it had been easy to ignore. Until now. Until Remus started keeping a secret and blushing when Sirius leaned close and being hesitant and cautious when he touched him. And that had made Sirius want to touch him more. And now Sirius was thinking about touching him in all sorts of ways and thinking about all the new secret things that Remus might say with his face and his body and all the new ways that Sirius could learn him. And, oh Merlin, now that Sirius had the thought in his mind he could already feel it morphing into some kind of desperate need and want and once Sirius wanted something he never was able to stop himself from carelessly careening after it. 

But he kept it in check for a while. Bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t give in to every impulse. James would’ve been proud of him if this were the type of thing he knew how to tell James. He didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want his assumption about Remus to be wrong or for them to be right only to throw their entire friendship down the drain for something that couldn’t last. So he didn’t reach out and pull Remus to him. Didn’t claim his lips or wrap his hands in the curls at the base of his neck. He showed remarkable self-control.

Until the next full moon. It was just him and Remus in the Shack the morning after. James had gone to help Peter finish his Charms essay. They had an hour at least before Madam Pomfrey came to get Remus and Sirius was healing the worst of his cuts and bruises from the night before like he always did. Except now there was this new knowledge and it made everything feel more intimate and Sirius didn’t know if he could stop himself from doing something reckless. Especially because Remus was too tired to control his face and was looking at Sirius with a warm open affection in his eyes. His lips were quirked in a sleepy smile. Sirius was so aware of the space between his wand hand and the warmth of Remus’ skin. 

He moved his other hand up to Remus’ cheek. Traced along a new cut by the corner of his smile. He meant to move his wand so he could heal it, but instead his hand stalled. His fingers smoothing along older scars. He got to watch a thrilling flush bloom across Remus’ chest and up his neck. He saw it grow underneath his fingers still resting against his cheek. Sirius leaned closer. Remus sat up straighter in the bed- the sleepy calm joy wiped away from his features. A question in his eyes and in the clench of his jaw. Sirius moved his thumb along the frown that had replaced his fond smile. Remus' lips parted and Sirius licked his own.

“What exactly are you doing? With all this?” Remus asked with a hoarse voice. He gestured vaguely. His eyes were wide. _Fear_. Brows knit close together. _Uncertainty_. And there was a strong defiant set to his jaw. _Anger_. 

Sirius swallowed. He hoped his own face showed his sincerity. This wasn’t a game and he needed to get this right. 

Remus apparently thought he needed to elaborate. He sighed. “The staring, and touching, and those damn smiles. What are you trying to do?”

Sirius tried to grin at him. Tried to show him his certainty as he bent towards him and kissed him. Remus froze for a moment before kissing him back. A slow and cautious kiss that somehow felt like both too much and not enough. They parted, both breathing fast. 

“What are we doing?” The words fell out of Remus into the inches between their lips and hung there.

Sirius had been hoping Remus wasn’t going to ask that. It was too hard to speak. Too hard when this new hopeful feeling was already tangled into their friendship and he couldn’t take love out of it. But love felt too strong for someone you had just kissed for the first time. Sirius looked at his hands. He wanted to tell Remus that he had taken over his thoughts long before he had a name for what it was he was feeling. He wanted him to know he wasn’t joking and that there was a hungry ache inside that curled into every fiber of his being and that the answer to all of it was Remus. There was no way to speak this. The enormity of it was too much and Sirius always messed up his words when emotions were involved anyway. He looked up from his hands. Right into Remus’ citrine eyes and willed him to understand. To read all of these thoughts in his face in the way Remus always seemed to be able to before. 

Remus looked at him with large wide eyes. He swept his gaze over Sirius and then nodded. Sirius felt relief wash over him and Remus moved his hand to cup Sirius’ neck and bring him closer. 

They stayed pressed together with gentle kisses and exploring touches until they heard Madam Pomfrey coming up the stairs.

Sirius knew eventually they would have to talk about it. But the next day when Remus came down from the hospital wing and sat down with a smile at the corner of his mouth, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it. Remus met his eyes and a flush crept up his neck. Sirius grinned. The smile Remus gave him back warmed his entire body. It was golden and brief and lit his eyes and held all sorts of secret promises and, Merlin, Sirius was going to enjoy finding out everything he could do to make Remus smile exactly like that again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [I Like for You to be Still](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/9922/i-like-for-you-to-be-still/) by Pablo Neruda which does not fit as a whole but the line does.
> 
> *  
>  **Mod Note**
> 
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